Rainsford jolted awake for the ninth time that night, breathing rapidly as his eyes darted to every crevice of his room. It had become a commonplace routine for him to wake up in such a manner, but today seemed different than it was yesterday. Once he finally calmed down, Rainsford glanced at the calendar, July 31, 1928. “ Why have I been awoken again and again?” Rainsford muttered to himself as he ran his fingers through his messy locks of hair. “No wonder. It’s been five years since--,” he cut himself off as goose bumps shuttered up and down his back. His breathing hitched as the memories of the aristocrat came flashing back towards him. The hunter could remember every single detail of that man’s face from the snow-white hair to high cheekbones and sharp turned nose, but the thing that he could recall the most about the man were his eyes. They were black eyes that could easily be mistaken to be bright and lightly, but in actuality belonged to a man filled with nothing but insanity and malicious intent. “Ugh! Get it together Sanger!” Rainsford slapped himself back to reality as he glanced at his mahogany, teakwood nightstand with a small digital alarm clock. The time read 4:30 a.m. as the faint sound of alarms blared from loudspeakers outside of the château. Groans from Cossack …show more content…
“Today is hunting day. After breakfast we shall go hunting for rabbits.” The hunter stared down at the rifle with such love and compassion that he had forgotten all about everything that happened half a decade ago and rather reminisced about the memories held within the general idea of hunting. Those memories where he and his father would travel to a local forest where they’d hunt and bond. There would be those rare occasions where he would actually shoot the animal down and he and his family would sit down at the table and have dinner like a normal